


Better Than Daleks

by misura



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Accidental Bonding, M/M, POV First Person, Pre-Slash, Soul Bond, Spell Failure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Peter wakes up from almost getting himself killed and immediately makes the keen observation that All Is Not Well.
Relationships: Peter Grant/Thomas Nightingale
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29
Collections: Yuletide Madness 2020





	Better Than Daleks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophiegaladheon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiegaladheon/gifts).



Of all the clothes I'd expected to wake up in, pajamas with little TARDISes on them hadn't even made it into the top ten. Come to think of it, I hadn't been quite certain that I'd be waking up at all.

Which turned out to be a truer observation than I'd thought, on account of I hadn't.

"Peter."

My left arm hurt and that old injury from where a bullet had grazed me was acting up again, funny thing, really, it hadn't bothered me for a solid forty years at least, and now here it was again. One of these days, I really ought to look into what was happening to me, but what if I didn't like the answers I found? Besides, there were so many more important, more urgent matters that required looking into.

For starters, my beloved idiot apprentice seemed intent on getting himself killed.

"Uh," I said intelligently.

Well. At least he had been unconscious as I'd cradled his body and ordered him not to die before I'd been able to confess to certain improper, ungentlemanly urges I'd been experiencing around him.

"As you may be aware, I was forced to resort to some rather desperate measures to preserve your life," I said. Well, Nightingale said. Who wasn't me, except for the bits that did rather feel like they were.

"I have reason to believe the effects may wear off with time," he added, but I also knew (or he also knew, I suppose I should say) that it might be a couple of years. If we were lucky. More, if we were to actually - but we wouldn't, of course, being master and apprentice and all.

"Sir," I said.

Nightingale grimaced - not with pain, it went without saying. Stiff upper lip and all that; can't show weakness in front of the apprentice. "I shall be happy to explain the mechanics of the spell to you, though I fear it may be a bit above your current level of understanding."

Plus, once he'd explained it to me, I would insist on experiments and measuring and all sorts of things that were really not at all important; he'd only done it to save my life, and now that this goal had been met, the proper thing would be for both of us to pretend nothing had happened. He was confident he'd learn to shield his mind from mine, and surely I would manage the same.

I supposed I should feel flattered at his confidence in me. The bits in the background where he kept thinking about what we might do a few decennia down the line, once I'd become a practitioner in my own right proved a bit of a distraction, though.

"Probably," I said. "I'd like to hear it anyway. When you're feeling better."

"I feel perfectly - " Nightingale started. I gave him a look. To be precise, I gave him the look he'd give me whenever he knew I was talking rubbish. (I might, I realized, grow rather used to this new state of things. And if I now also knew everything Nightingale knew about magic - well. That ought to considerably shorten the term of my apprenticeship.)

Nightingale cleared his throat. He at least had the grace to look a bit embarrassed, though I could tell it was more at getting caught than at the lie he'd been about to tell.

"Gaining knowledge by numen can hardly be considered a substitute for actual study," he said. "In addition to which, this knowledge will fade with time. You might then be faced with opponents who consider you a lot more dangerous than you are in reality."

I thought that might be good for a bluff or two. Nightingale thought that would lead to people hiring expensive gunmen to take me out from a safe distance.

I supposed he might have a point there, though Nightingale seemed to be doing well enough.

He sighed. "We can discuss this later, when we have both had some time to get used to things."

I said, "Yes, sir." It would certainly require some time to process the idea of Nightingale wearing Doctor Who jammies. I wondered who his favorite Doctor was, and whether or not he preferred Classic!Who over Nu!Who. I suspected that he did.

"These night clothes - " he said, pausing, and I knew.

I had to admit, I felt the tiniest bit disappointed, as well as perhaps a little bit disturbed at the implications. "Of course, sir. Molly." Did he normally sleep in the nude? Yet another image I would need to spend some time processing.

"She meant well," he said. "And they really are very comfortable."

I almost offered to go out and buy him some plain ones. Almost.

"I'll leave you to get some rest now, sir."


End file.
